


Acceptance

by JosieCarioca



Series: The Soren Snape Chronicles [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieCarioca/pseuds/JosieCarioca
Summary: Severus Snape didn't want a child. Yet, here he is.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus snape / Evelyn Black
Series: The Soren Snape Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1445878
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Acceptance

October, 31, 2005

Severus didn't want a child.

And yet...here it was...

He approached the cradle with featherlight footsteps. It was a simple but elegant piece of furniture, made of heavy dark oak wood, a heirloom of Evelyn's family, that her mother had insisted on giving them. A wealth of delicate white and blue covers and a veil of rich Irish lace protected its tiny occupant from the late October chill.

Severus' long fingers drew back the covers to reveal the child to his sleep deprived eyes. A child who was barely more than an hour old. A child that wasn't expected. A mistake that shouldn't have happened, as far as his father had been concerned.

Severus didn't want a child.

Most people take parental instinct for granted. They imagine it's only natural for parents to love their children. It simply happened. Severus knew better. In fact he knew from experience that it just wasn't that simple. Nowhere near that simple...

And that was precisely the reason he had never considered fatherhood, even after his marriage to Evelyn. It wasn't even in the realm of possibilities. After all, what kind of father would he be? He couldn't see himself changing soiled nappies, reading bedtime stories, blowing up coloured balloons for birthday parties. Making sacrifices, being willing to expose himself to ridiculous situations, abdicating of so, so much. All because of a genetic connection to a child who, most likely, would never really appreciate any of it.

On top of it, Severus was getting old. Severus was 45 going on 90. That was no age to be starting a family, even by wizards' standards. He had imagined Evelyn felt the same. They had talked about it before, and she knew him well enough to be aware of his feelings on the matter, and she had decided to marry him anyway. It was safe to assume children were not among her priorities either.

When Evelyn told him of the news, she had done so in a grave, almost mournful manner. He had sat there for a quarter of an hour trying to digest it. She let him be. Evelyn knew there would be no fireworks, no smiles, no tears of joy, no celebration. But maybe she had expected him to, at least, be a mature about it.

He wasn't.

"How could this happen?...It's a mistake...You shouldn't have...We shouldn't have...We can't do this..."

He didn't even remember what had come out of his mouth. It was a torrent of nonsense and nothing more. She never answered. She just let him babble for what felt like hours. She stood there, stoic, listening to his mindless, senseless ramblings and accusations, never uttering a word. Once Severus was finally done, she still stood, silent. Her eyes were swelling with tears but she fought them, refusing to cry.

"Are you done, Severus?" she let out with a trembling, wounded voice.

"This is obviously...I mean, we can't...I can't...You knew it..."

"I didn't plan this, if that's what you're getting at..." Her voice barely rose. Cold, monotone. Severus hated that. He wished she would snap, scream, call him names...Anything would be better than this quiet, hissing rage boiling under that calm exterior.

"I know!" Severus almost screamed, frustrated. "It's just...there's no place for this..."

"This? What do you mean by 'this', Severus?"

How could he get her to understand?

It had taken him decades to open a space in his life, a space for someone who wasn't Lily... It took him decades and effort, so much effort. And he had done it, he had made room for Evelyn in his life. Not only that, he had made his life revolve around her, he had given her that place that had once belonged to Lily...Severus had given her more than this, actually. Lily had never shared his life, his every day and hour in the way Evelyn had. Lily was the distant, ideal love of his troubled youth. Evelyn had become his here and now, his entire existence. For seven years now, she had been the only person he allowed to get in, the only person whose opinion mattered, whose happiness mattered, the only person he thought about before every taking every step and making every decision. Severus had made room in his life for her, and she had grown into his heart in such a powerful way that there was no space left for anything or anybody else.

A second person didn't fit... There was no room...

Severus couldn't expect her to understand that. It would be asking to much of her...of any woman probably...But Evelyn was resolute: he was free to turn his back on the child, but if he did that, it was over between them.

Severus had expected her to do exactly that. Quite frankly, he would have been disappointed if she had done otherwise. Love came easily to Evelyn. She was generous in her affections in a way that Severus couldn't be, hard as he may try. How else could she have found it in her to love him, of all men? For her, loving this child wasn't a question. She had it in her to do it, she had it in her to love, naturally, without restriction. Severus didn't, had never had. Love was always a struggle for him. Obviously, she had put her child first, because that child needed her more than Severus did, and a generous heart will give love as love is needed, while a selfish heart will give love as it sees fit for its own purposes and interests. Unlike him, Evelyn wasn't so broken that she had to ration her love according to her own selfish needs and struggle to give it freely like he had. That kind of attitude was exactly the reason he respected and loved her...Exactly the reason he needed her...

Still, she left him little choice.

It's common for men to stay with a woman they don't love for the sake of a child they do love. Trust Severus Snape to go against all normal expectations...Severus stayed to welcome a child he didn't want for the sake of a woman he loved more than anything.

Severus didn't want a child.

And yet...here it was...

No, not "it"... "He". He was a boy. Severus had hoped for a girl. Maybe a girl would be easier to love... A girl who took after her mother... Yes, it would definitely be easier. Maybe he could transfer some of the love he had for the mother unto the child, if only that child had been a girl, a girl who looked like the mother, with the same warm golden-brown eyes, the same dark hair, the same earnest smile. Maybe if that was the case, he could force himself to love this child, even if only as an extention of Evelyn. For the long months before the delivery, Severus had held very few expectations about the child other than desperately wishing it was a girl.

Those were the pitifully few hopes and dreams Severus had about his own child. Any other father in his place would be making grand plans, arragements, daydreaming about the future. Any other man would be bursting out of his skin with excitement...But for the first few months Severus hadn't even followed Evelyn's pregnancy...

After that disastrous first exchange, the tension in their house had become unbearable for both. They argued frequently,which was something that had never happened before. Anything would set it off. Any awkward silence was reason for suspicion, any disagreement escalated into full-fledged accusations, any misunderstandment was the seed for a verbal altercations. And after every episode, Evelyn would isolate herself further and avoid him as one avoids a dangerous animal. He could overhear her crying frequently...Usually very late at night or early in the mornign when she thought he was asleep. She had always been too proud to cry in front of him, particularly when they argued. Her health had declined as well, he had noticed. Nausea was to be expected of someone in her condition, but there were days even a glass of water would make her ill. Some mornings she would be so sick, her sides would hurt from vomiting. Some other days she couldn't get out of bed, drained from exhaustion and vertigo.

It had come to a point they simply stopped talking aside from the strictly necessary for two people living under the same roof. Evelyn did it out of self-preservation; Severus out of fear...fear of what he might end up doing to her, as the ghost of Tobias Snape started to breathe down his neck. He himself decided it would be better to move to the guest room. He couldn't help his temper, and he was making her so sick and distraught that he had started to fear his mere presence might be dangerous.

The self-imposed distance hadn't helped matters. If anything, it had made it all worse. Both of them were becoming paranoid, quietly expecting the moment another argument would start. The avoidance only built tension, which was bound to explode eventually... Which it did...

...spectacularly.

She had been frightfully ill that day. Once more Severus had been ravaged by guilt, knowing himself responsible for it. This time around, however, instead of stepping aside, he had decided to offer help. Foolishly, he believed that brewing her something to ease her discomfort might make up for what he had put her through.

Evelyn raised her head from the pillow when he came into their bedroom and eyed the cup of tea he offered her suspiciously.

"What's this?"

"For your nausea."

"What's in it?" It was a perfectly innocent question. A question she had asked him many times before, whenever he brewed her something for a common cold or indigestion. She wasn't a potioneer, or even a witch; of course she would ask, she always did. But the weight of weeks upon weeks of paranoia had clouded his judgement.

"What do you mean by that?" he snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"What do you mean by 'what's in it'? What do you think I'd put in it?"

"I don't know...You're the potioneer. I'm just asking because some ingredients may be dangerous in my condition."

"And you think I'd put anything in this that might be dangerous to you 'in your condition'?"

"Of course not, Severus" she sounded too tired to argue anymore

"Then?"

"Then, what?"

"Just say what you mean to say."

"Pray tell, what do I mean to say?"

"You don't trust me, do you?"

"Do I have any reason not to?"

"What the hell kind of question is this, Evelyn? Don't tell me you think I've put something in this brew that would harm you or the..." he couldn't bring himself to say it

"What?! I didn't say that." she sat up with some difficulty, probably dizzy; she had been dizzy frequently lately.

"Not in so many words." he sneered

"What has gotten into you? Do you really believe I would...accuse you of putting something in my tea? To what purpose would you do that? Unless...Severus...Don't tell me..."

He had made it abundantly clear he didn't want a child. She had accused him so many times of wishing that child away, of wishing it gone. Lately she had avoided him so much he felt like she was afraid of him. Severus was afraid of himself even, sometimes.Why wouldn't she think...He had done worse things in his life that she knew of. In her shoes...wouldn't it be a reasonable concern? Still...The arguments, the hidden tears in the wee hours of the night, the avoidance, her shrinking away from him as if he was a viper ready to attack...Of course she would think that, wouldn't she?

It was all unfounded and he knew it. But once his paranoia had set the catastrophe on motion, there was little he could do to stop it. It simply escalated from there. Severus wasn't sure at which point he had flung the tea cup across the room shattering it on the wall, but from then on everything turned into what could be charitably described as a clusterfuck of amazing proportions. He continued his accusations because once started he simply had to continue...like walking into an abyss...He badgered her until the inevitable happened...She had enough taking his blows and, on pure instinct, decided to hurt him back.

"Fine, Severus! You're right! I'm afraid of you. Happy now? I'm afraid of you and what you can do when things don't go your way. And this is not what you wanted, is it? At least not with me, you didn't."

"What?!"

"Be honest, this is not about not wanting a child! You just don't want THIS child."

"Evelyn..."

"Would you have wanted it with somebody else? At some other time?" He could tell she was holding back from saying it. He could tell the words were bitter in her mouth before she said them.

"You're being unreasonable!"

"Yes, I am! I am being unreasonable! How can I be reasonable when I don't even know what to expect from you anymore!?" she was rambling through tears and Severus, for the first time, was afraid of what she might say or do next "Why do I keep insisting on this!? You're right, you'll never be a good father, Severus."

Severus could see the regret in her eyes as soon as she finished that last sentence. It wasn't that she was wrong...she wasn't. It was that she knew she had done it out of spite, to hurt him. She had this horrified look on her face; as if she couldn't recognise herself in her own words...As usual, Severus had the talent to ruin everything he touched. He had brought her down to his level. More than the pain her words caused him, what broke him in a million pieces was that he had driven her to had pushed a woman who loved him, in spite of all his flaws, into a corner and hounded her so much she had to hurt him back. A woman who wouldn't willingly hurt anyone, let alone someone she loved.

A heavy silence fell over them, and he knew something had snapped. Overnight she packed up and left. Back to Ireland. To her mother's house.

For the second time in his life Severus Snape had let his poor judgement piss away whatever chance of hapiness fate had allowed him. For the second time in his life Severus prayed he wasn't beyond fixing. For the second time in his life he had put his tail between his legs to go after a woman he had wounded deeply to beg for forgiveness, to grovel at her feet and beg her to look past his own calousness and give him a chance he knew didn't deserve. For the second time in his life he had stood for hours on end in front of a closed door, hoping, praying, imploring. For the second time in his life he had stood in plain view of the world, humiliated, waiting like a stray dog waits outside a house for the leftovers of the table to be tossed out so he can quell his hunger.

But this time around, Severus was given a second chance.

He had his mother-in-law to thank for this. Sophia had almost forced her daughter to talk to him, because, according to her "that was no way to treat your husband". Severus thanked heavens for her and her antiquate, conservative, Irish-Catholic ways. Evelyn had agreed to see him, merely because her mother had told her to. And stubborn as she was, Evelyn had such a deep reverence for her mother that she'd even swallow her pride and agree to give him an opportunity to speak, if only because her mother was the one asking.

Severus Snape was not a man to profess undying love through words. He had never been one to show affection in public. He didn't even think he knew how. But that day he did it. He would have done anything. In front of his mother-in-law, and his sister-in-law Severus Snape, one of the most powerful wizards in existence had fallen to his knees, and pathetically begged for a second chance. He promised her to be by her side, promised to try his best not to fail her, promised to try to be a decent father. He begged, like any man, like any man in love.

Evelyn, blessed be her heart and its seemingly endless ability to love, returned to him, and they moved on.

For months Severus watched as their child grew in her womb. He would be lying if he said he felt nothing. It wasn't joy per se, nor was it anticipation... But rather.. something akin to tenderness. Evelyn was happy, and more than that she was anxious. Every new purchase for the nursery, every doctor's appointment (she had insisted on a muggle doctor), every new addition to the endless collection of children's books and toys was an event to be celebrated. Severus couldn't say it didn't affect him. That her constant smile, her joy at the slightest movement of the child, her glowing cheeks and softer forms didn't affect him.

He was sure there was something purely instinctive about the way he felt during those months, about that fierce need to protect her from everything, that constant eagerness to make her happy. Even if his mind still refused to accept the idea of fatherhood, it was like his body had put him in a constant state of alert similar to that which some wild beasts go into when their mates are expecting. Genetic preservation instinct, his brain told him, explaining from a logical point of view that feeling he couldn't quite deal with.

For months he had been the most attentive father-to-be the world had ever seen. He became a slave to Evelyn's every whim and need. Half of it was pure guilt, the other half was paralyzing fear. Evelyn was 42. Any pregnancy at that age was delicate, but hers was particularly difficult. Worse still, there was a history of miscarriages and other gestational issues in her family as well. Her doctor had diagnosed her with a somewhat rare condition called hyperemesis gravidarum. She was constantly tired, violently nauseous and dehydrated; frequently dizzy and weak. Her blood pressure had been cause for concern early on. And then came the mood swings... Instead of losing his temper, Severus just obliged her. For months he took all the abuse she dished out on him whenever her hormones were making her erratic, and gave her whatever she wanted, did whatever she asked.

Severus even hired a nurse, despite Evelyn's protests. A squib named Protea. Evelyn had chosen her personally, once it became clear Severus would not give up on the idea. Evelyn was adamantly opposed to the idea of having house elves, for which Severus couldn't be more thankful, and she didn't want a witch either. She didn't want someone who could simply fix everything for her child with magic, which was reasonable seeing as Evelyn herself couldn't produce magic. But hiring a muggle was out of question, for secrecy reasons. The solution to their problem came in the form of a short, soft-spoken Londoner born to American expats, with both nursing and midwifery certificates, specialization in childcare and three decades of experience as a governess for muggle children.

Protea had been the closest thing to a guardian angel Severus could have hoped for. She was kind, considerate, efficient and Evelyn had been immediately smitten with her. Soon enough Protea had become her newest best friend, and a welcome bridge between Evelyn and himself. Protea would religiously report and patiently, yet sternly, walk Severus through every little thing he had to know, give him every single piece of information he needed to fulfill his fatherly duties. Thanks to her and the pile of books and articles she supplied him with, Severus had finally started to believe he could, after all, be a half-decent father.

But it was easy to be the perfect father when your child is nothing but a concept. Sometimes Severus would simply forget that at the end of the road there was a very real baby, that would require very real care. Fawning obsessively over his wife was an excellent way to distract himself from the thought. But when he remembered it, he remembered that he didn't want to be a father, he remembered he would be bound for life to something he hadn't planned, something he hadn't chosen, something he hadn't wanted. He remembered that everything would change, that Evelyn wouldn't be only his any longer, that the delicate balance they had arduously achieved in their relationship would be shattered again. At those moments he hated that baby...Then he hated himself for hating a person who wasn't even born yet. He twisted himself in knots to conceal these feelings from his blissfully unaware wife.

Evelyn had gone into labor on October 30th. The weather was cold and foul as Autumns tended to be in Hogsmeade, and the healer Protea had summoned to assist her had to brave piercing winds and merciless hail to get to their house, on the outskirts of the wizarding village. Evelyn had wanted to call her doctor in Glencoe, but Severus didn't trust a muggle doctor for this. If he had his way they'd have gone to St. Mungo's, but Evelyn had decided to have the child at home, trusting Protea's expertise. When the day finally arrived Severus cursed the moment he had agreed to it.

Protea had asked him if he wished to be with Evelyn for the delivery. He said no. He couldn't. Simply couldn't. It was one last act of cowardice on his part, to leave her alone, but he couldn't. What good would he do if he was there, anyway?

Waiting on the hallway as the heavy rain poured outside, Severus agonized for hours... Hours and hours...Hours that passed slowly and inexorably one after the other making their way into a dark and never-ending night...

A whole day had passed...

As the clock struck midnight, Severus felt a shiver down his spine.

October 31st.

Of all days of the year, he dreaded October 31st the most. The day Lily had been killed. The day that had changed his life and almost destroyed it.

The hours passed and he found himself, for the first time, wishing that baby was born. For the first time he found himself anticipating the moment it would cry for the first time. Not because he particularly wanted to hold his firstborn child in his arms. Severus just wanted it to end. He wanted her pain to end. He wanted to know she would be fine. He wanted to know he wouldn't, once again have his heart ripped from his chest on a damned All Hallow'Eve.

But the hours passed and he heard nothing but Evelyn's agonizing grunts and moans inside the bedroom. It wasn't over...

The rain stopped and the sun came out. A cold Autumn morning filled the hallway with a greyish-white glow...He felt his heart sink into his chest.

October 31st...

Halloween Day...

The day the dead walk the earth...

The day Lily had died...

Once again, Severus Snape could feel everything he cared for slipping through his fingers, as he stood powerless, unable to hold on.

Inside the bedroom, the moans grew fainter and faiter... She was exhausted, in pain...She might not make it...

All because of that child he didn't want...

Then there was silence. The sense of dread that filled him was like nothing he had ever felt before. It lasted only a few seconds. Then the child cried.

Finally.

There it was.

That child Severus didn't want.

Soren... Soren Prince Snape. Evelyn had chosen his first name. Apparently "Soren" was a synonym for "Severus", in Danish...or something to that effect, he wasn't sure...Soren Kierkegaard has been one of her late father's favorite authors, as well, and they had bonded over the Dane's writings when she was a teenager, which made it a nice posthumous hommage to him, in a way. "Prince" was also her choice for a middle name. An hommage to his mother.

Soren Prince Snape... A bit too pompous for such a small child, wasn't it?

Severus looked at the boy, taking in every little detail. He was so small... For a moment he wondered if he wasn't too small, But then he remembered he didn't know anything about babies or how big or small they are supposed to be. Severus's stretched out his hand, ever so carefully, and lightly touched the baby's head. Soren was born with a full head of very fine black hair, that stood up a bit at the top. He felt the soft scalp under his fingertips, but retracted his hand as it touched the soft spot. Yes, he had forgotten about those tricky details of an infant's anatomy. Details that made them so delicate to handle. Too delicate to handle.

Severus wondered how long it would take him to muster the courage to pick him up for the first time. He was just too small, too fragile. The pale-blue clothes he was dressed in looked like they could fit a child twice his size. The over-long sleeves almost covered his hands. Severus took one of those tiny hands into his. Soren fussed and grabbed his father's finger. Severus gave him a moment to settle down and pried the minuscule digits from his own and examined them. They were long like those of Severus himself, and his grip was strong...

It was a hand that, one day, would hold a wand with ease and confidence. A small smile formed on Severus' lips at the thought. Yes, one day... That child had the blood of the Prince family and the Black family. He was the firstborn son of Severus Snape, and his mother was an extremely accomplished scholar on her own right. One day he would be a great wizard, it was only obvious. A great Slytherin wizard. Maybe a Ravenclaw, if he took after his mother. He wouldn´t mind having a Ravenclaw for a son. In any case, he would be a great wizard. Severus was sure of that.

Lost in his momentary reverie, Severus barely noticed Soren had woken up... The boy made some little noises, and for a moment looked as if he would start crying. A small rush of panic ran through Severus. Evelyn was sound asleep and, after hours of labour, would be in no shape to help him soothe the baby if he started crying. He considered calling Protea, but fortunately it wasn't necessary. Soren didn't cry. Instead he just looked up at his father, his big dark eyes oddly focused.

Did he recognise the man looking down on him? No, that was a stupid notion. Newborns can't recognize anybody, except maybe their mothers. But as Soren looked up and frowned ever so slightly, Severus could't help but think that this seemingly grave expression might be an early indication of a thoughtful, maybe even inquisitive nature. He laughed at his own pretentions: at such a tender age a "thoughtful expresssion" usually meant no more than a bowel movement. Still he held his child's gaze, trying to find a hint of colour in his eyes. Would they be golden brown like Evelyn's or black like his own? Impossible to know now.

He did hope Soren wouldn't have his nose, however.It was a vain hope, he knew. All the men in the Snape family had it. It was a sort of family curse, so to speak. Soren was a Snape, hence he would have his nose. There would be some schoolyard bullying in store for him.Hopefully he might have some of his mother's good-looks to make up for it.

Soren's eyelids were heavy now. Once again Severus let his fingertips touch the top of his head, hoping that awkward caress would ease him back into sleep. It seemed to work. The little body relaxed, tiny hands closed into fists, his belly moving up and down with the regular rhythm of his breathing.

Severus was tired as well, his eyes burned, and his back hurt. Well, he was getting old, far to old to be starting a family. But that couldn't be helped now, could it?. He covered the cradle again, so the morning light wouldn't disturb Soren's sleep. Then, he kicked off his shoes and laid down besides Evelyn, too tired to even change out of his clothes.

Severus didn't want a child.

And yet...here he was...His son...

His son, Soren Prince Snape.


End file.
